Covered Bridge Charm (17 page)

Glittering hate-filled eyes forced Dot to cower and bury her face in her arms.
Go away,
her mind begged.
Leave me alone.
But the menacing thing remained, dark and evil. Her heart thumped with terror, and she knew she was trapped. But she couldn’t remember how she’d come to be in this awful, godforsaken place. She lay immobilized in suffocating fear until she dared to raise her face for a gulp of fresh air. Her throat constricted. She took several short breaths. Her nose tickled. She swiped at something, and the demon vanished.

She relaxed and rested her cheek in the soft cup of her hand. As her fears receded, her breathing grew easier, and her mind floated far away. She landed in a slant-ceilinged room. She saw a small, cast-iron bed with rumpled covers. She sensed it was her job to put them in order. But before she could do that, she had to find something. What was missing? As her hands groped, she struggled to remember.

Inside assisted living, Carly plumped a pillow next to Nines, who as usual was dressed as if prepared for an outing and clutching her purse. Carly was positioning a lap blanket when the entrance alarm engaged. With frustration over the constant string of misfortunes, she hurried toward the door.

A police officer with a handgun strapped to his belt stared at her through the glass pane. When the door slid open, he stepped into the building, filling the room with authority. He brushed his blue gaze over Carly, and his expression softened. “You in charge here?”

She pointed him to the caregivers’ station and watched him stride toward Sherie.

“You in charge here?” Repeater said. “Who’s that?”

“I didn’t catch his name.”

Repeater turned his attention back to the television, while Carly kept her own eyes averted from the electronic evil. She glanced toward the desk. Sherie spoke to the officer who curved a finger, summoning her.

When Carly stood in front of the officer, he asked, “You were on duty when Dot Miller was reported missing?”

“Just going off duty, sir.”

He took paperwork from a clipboard and pushed it across the counter toward Sherie. “If you fill out this missing person’s report while we talk, it’ll save time.” His gaze shifted back to Carly. “Miss Blosser, when was Mrs. Miller last seen?”

“At dinner. Around 4:30.”

“Do you have any idea where she may have gone? Any clues at all?”

“Jah, maybe. Dot has a routine. She usually visits Magnificent before heading to her apartment for the evening. The cage is by the door.”

When the officer gave her the same expression as those who couldn’t understand Pennsylvania Dutch, she clarified, “The birdcage.” He still didn’t get it. “Sometimes when visitors come and go, they don’t watch for residents who may slip through the automatic doors. I don’t know how else Dot could have disappeared.”

“Does she have endangering health issues?”

“Dementia,” Carly explained as her fears escalated. “She’s very fearful, and she’s tiny and wasn’t wearing her coat.”

His eyes widened with alarm. “Do you keep a visitation log?”

“Jah.” Carly moved behind the counter and opened the ledger.

“Donna Weaver checked out at five thirty. Does that fit with your scenario?”

Nodding, Carly replied, “I’m afraid so. But we already called Donna, and she didn’t remember anything. Here’s her phone number.”

Sherie interrupted, “You want me to sign this?”

“Yes. Before I can initiate a search, I’ll need a photo and Dot’s medical records.”

Sherie handed him Dot’s file. “It’s all in here.” They watched him rifle through the file and click an electronic device over the paperwork.

“One more thing, Miss Blosser. Can you describe her clothing?”

Carly thought for a moment. “Jah, a green dress with tiny flowers.”

“Thanks, that’s all for now.” The officer turned his back to use his phone.

Sherie had finished the report. “I know you’re off duty, Carly, but would you mind distributing meds?”

“Not at all.” Still shivering and nearly sagging with weariness, she left the caregivers’ station and worked without incident for several minutes. She was directly across the hall from Dot’s apartment when the officer reappeared. He pointed toward Dot’s open door, and Carly nodded. Her curiosity drew her to follow him inside the apartment.

Crusher had fallen asleep in Dot’s recliner. Carly crossed the room and woke him with a touch, explaining about the officer. His sad eyes followed the officer’s movements as he opened closet doors and asked pertinent questions.

“Is there any possibility that your wife could be at your apartment?”

“When I got the news, I asked the neighbors to watch for her and call if she turns up.”

“Good thinking.” The officer verified the address, his gaze continually scanning the room, when suddenly he stopped speaking. His eyes narrowed to focus on something across the room.

Carly’s heart sank at the officer’s grim face. “What?”

He raised a palm, warning her and Crusher to stay put as he moved purposefully toward the dresser.

C
arly clutched Crusher’s arm, her gaze following the officer as he moved across the small apartment. Alarm slammed her heart to wonder what had his attention so riveted. When he reached the antique piece, he sank to his knees and disappeared out of sight.

With an understanding gasp, she flew after him and saw a solitary shoe protruding from beneath the bed. But the officer blocked her view from Dot’s body.

Soon he raised his head. “I believe we’ve solved the mystery.”

Eyeing the immobile shoe, Carly gasped, “Is she—”

“Breathing.”

With a sigh of relief, she cried, “Crusher, we found her.”

“Bless the Lord.” The older man shuffled toward them, muttering a stream of thanks.

Meanwhile the officer remained prone on the floor, limiting Carly’s vision. “Mrs. Miller? You all right under there?”

At Dot’s slight groan, Carly implored, “Please, Officer, let me talk to her so she isn’t frightened.” In affirmation, the officer backed away. Behind her, she heard Crusher telling him that they’d checked under the bed earlier. “Guess all her blasted storage containers hid her. She collects quilt scraps and patterns. She doesn’t sew anymore, but she won’t give ’em up.”

Dot stirred at Carly’s gentle nudging, “Why don’t you come out where it’s more comfortable.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Sh! I’m hiding,” she whispered.

“But there’s no need,” Carly reassured.

Dot exclaimed, “It’s the Death Angel. He’s pure awful and stalking me.”

Placing her arm around Dot as best she could in the cramped quarters, Carly said, “He’s gone now.”

Dot’s head swiveled, and her eyes darted. “Jah. He can’t find me here. His eyes are so evil.”

“Crusher’s here.”

“Crusher?” Dot moved and banged her head against the bed’s bracings. “I’m trapped,” she panted.

“You’re fine. But it’s tight quarters. So keep your head down and scoot backward. I’ll help.” As Dot got the hang of it, Carly inched back, bumping into Crusher.

When Dot rolled out, she lay on her back and gave Crusher a contrite smile.

He exploded. “What are you doing under there?” His unusually sharp tone told Carly he’d been frightened to the core.

Carly saw a flicker of confusion in Dot’s eyes, and she replied in sing-song, “Tommy’s tears and Mary’s fears will make them old before their years.”

Crusher exchanged a disheartened look with Carly and softened his tone. “You had us all worried.”

Carly started to help Dot to her feet but suddenly felt faint herself and clutched the bed while the officer rushed forward to help Dot. The older woman tottered uneasily at first. She took a deep breath and rubbed her head. “That hurts.”

Crusher placed one hand at Dot’s waist and plucked a dust bunny from the side of her misshapen covering.

The officer asked Carly, “You all right?”

“Yes, just dizzy for a moment. I’m fine.” But she felt anything but fine.

He smiled wide. “Good. We don’t always have happy endings. I’m glad this one was. I’m going back to the front desk. We’ll need a nurse to check her out before I can close the case.”

Carly watched him disappear. Happy ending? Though she was thrilled to find Dot, her heart broke to think she’d been hiding all those hours from the Death Angel. In her confusion, she must have forgotten that she was a Christian headed for heaven’s happily ever after. Would she forget her faith altogether? Is that what was causing her fear?

Her grim thoughts fled when Martha stuck her head inside the room. “Is it true? You found Dot?”

Blinking back an unexpected rush of tears, Carly smiled. “Jah, see for yourself.”

“You foolish woman. I’m never going to say a cross word to you again,” Martha blurted.

“About time,” Dot huffed.

“How could you hide so long?”

“I fell asleep.”

Dot’s admission gave Carly some relief that Dot might not have been fearfully hiding the entire time. She swiped her sleeve across her eyes. Perhaps she’d only awakened from a bad dream.

Following right behind Martha was the staff nurse. “Oh Carly, you’re still here? Shoo now. I’ve got this.”

“All right. Thanks, Linda.” Feeling exhausted and shaky, Carly moved toward the caregivers’ station. At Sherie’s affirmative wave, she fetched her coat and passed through the vacant lobby. The television was turned off and the lights dimmed. Magnificent’s cage was covered. Everything seemed in order, but her heart remained heavy.

If only she could do more to help her elderly friends finish their lives with grace and confidence. She’d talk to Martha and see if the two of them could come up with ways to help Dot overcome her fears and substantiate her faith. Horrible as this had been, she hoped it could be a turning point for the elderly women’s friendship. She punched in the exit code, surprised to see Adam standing outside the building. His hair was tousled, and his coat covered in burrs.

“Was she really under the bed?”

The soft question drew her gaze to his eyes. They held no criticism, and the kindness she saw drew out her confession, “I feel so inadequate.”

He softly chuckled. “You’re anything but that. I saw the way you handled Crusher. You’re a natural with them. You anticipate their needs before they even know they have any.”

“Thanks.”

“Crusher still in there?”

“Jah.” She smiled. “But they’ll kick him out any minute now.” Cold air penetrated Carly’s coat, and she gave an involuntary shudder. All she could think of was her soft warm bed. A melodic peal sounded throughout the courtyard, interrupting their conversation. They waited as the chapel’s steeple clock chimed nine times.

Adam frowned. “It’s late, and you’re cold. Let me take you home.”

At that moment, Aesop came around the corner and killed his scooter’s motor. “Here—here to meet Crusher. Good thing they found his lady.”

Carly nodded as Crusher appeared.

Aesop handed Crusher a helmet. “Hop—hop on.”

Their eyes widened as Crusher drew his finger to his lips to silence their objections and slid behind the thin but sinewy security officer. Aesop must have been assured they liked him too much to tattle. In fact, by Crusher’s expression, it hadn’t been the first time they’d ridden together.

Laughing, Adam drew his arm around her.

As they drove through Sweet Home, dead this time of night, Carly replayed the evening in her mind. She’d been shocked to see Dot’s foot sticking out from the bed. Then when she’d seen Dot’s wide-eyed fright, she’d wanted to wrap her arms around the little woman and hold her forever.

She rubbed her arms, dimly aware of pain emanating from her scratches. “She told me she was hiding from the Death Angel.”

Adam’s startled expression saddened. “What? You believe her?”

She leaned her head back against the headrest. “I don’t know. She could have seen an angel. Or maybe a demon. She said its eyes were evil.”

Turning onto Hawthorne, Adam replied, “It’s possible, but with her dementia, her mind’s most likely playing tricks on her.”

Carly shivered. “I suppose. But it’s real to her.”

“I know.”